


No Big Deal

by deux_lunes



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-11-02 06:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deux_lunes/pseuds/deux_lunes
Summary: Practice makes perfect, whether it comes to guitars or sex. It's no big deal.Originally posted on Livejournal.





	No Big Deal

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place around 1959--Paul is roughly 18 and George roughly 16 or 17.

“Fuck!” Paul scowled at his guitar, like it was the instrument that had produced the sour chord and not his own fingers. “Bloody A-7th, always gets me.”

I smirked at my friend. “Practice makes perfect, Paul.”

“Oh, sod off, George,” he replied good-naturedly. “I’ve played the damn chord thirty times this afternoon already.”

“You’ve gotta play it thirty times more then.”

Paul groaned and set his guitar on the floor next to my bed. “You know, when I practice with John, he doesn’t sweat over every single chord.”

I frowned and focused on my own fingering. “Well, that’s probably why I’m a better guitarist than John.”

“It’s not all about practice, George, it’s about passion too.”

“I have passion when I play!” I protested hotly. It bothered me to no end the way Paul would bring up John when we were together. John Lennon’s name had become a curse on my lips; the way he had stolen my best friend away from me with his cocky attitude and devil-may-care demeanor… I was now constantly being compared to him, and there was nothing I hated more. “You know that I’m passionate about nothing _but_ music.”

“Nothing? No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend,” Paul teased, and I blushed slightly.

“Maybe not nothing, exactly.”

Paul repositioned himself on the bed, looking at me eagerly. “Do you ever think about when the Quarrymen are going to be rich and famous?”

“Well, you’ll never know until you’ve got that A-7th chord down,” I replied seriously, and he laughed, his brown eyes twinkling at me. I smiled bashfully, feeling warm inside. I hadn’t said it to be funny, but making him laugh was its own great reward.

“What are you going to do when the band makes it?” Paul lay his head down on my pillow, staring up at me curiously. 

I just plucked at my guitar a little more. “Dunno…”

“Georgie, you’ve got to have had at least _one_ fantasy where you’re filthy fucking rich.”

I grinned. “Well, one.”

“Which is?”

“Women,” I stated firmly. “All the beautiful women from every corner of the globe. I’d shag all of ‘em.”

This sent Paul into gales of laughter, while I giggled along quietly. “Don’t see what’s so funny, Paul! I’d have an Italian bird, and a Chinese bird, and a Latin bird and, cor, all of them!” My older friend just chortled behind his hand, so I smacked him lightly on the chest. “Probably better than anything you’d have.”

“Big house,” he announced proudly. “A great big house with fifty rooms! Twenty luxury cars, a private jet and a huge swimming pool!”

“But no women,” I reminded him. “I’d rather have a beautiful woman than any of that.”

“Yeah, you’d know, wouldn’t ya, Georgie?” Paul winked at me and I colored slightly.

“Just ‘cause I haven’t done it yet doesn’t mean I won’t like it when I do.” 

“Will you only have women?”

I blinked. “What?”

Paul’s big brown eyes looked down at my bedspread, picking at a loose thread. “Well, you’ll be filthy rich. When you’re that wealthy, you can afford to be a bit… eccentric.”

I had no idea what my mate was implying, but I didn’t want to exactly advertise my ignorance. “Maybe a little eccentricity would be exciting… Like a high-class call girl or something?”

Paul laughed once again. “No, George. Like _men_.”

“Oh!” My eyes were wide but Paul avoided them. “Why would I want that?!”

“Why not?” Paul sat up to face me. “It’s not like the law would come after you when you’re that rich, you can just pay them off—”

“But I’m not queer!” I screeched, my voice cracking on the last syllable. “Do you think I am?”

“No, I don’t think you are,” he said quickly. “But don’t you ever think you could be?”

I glared at him. “I really think you’re implying that I’m a poof, McCartney. Just because I haven’t been with a girl yet—”

“George, George, George,” Paul interrupted, sitting up and shushing me with his hands. “It’s not you. I just think _everybody_ wonders whether or not they are at one point. And I’m just saying that it wouldn’t be a terrible thing to… experiment with.”

“I’ve never thought about a man before in my life,” I said sullenly, “and I don’t intend to start anytime soon.”

“I don’t think it’d hurt to try though. Artists should really experience all of what life has to offer, just to know what’s out there. I think you should try everything at least once, right?”

Pinpricks of comprehension began to burst through my clouded mind. “Do you think… you might be…?”

Paul blushed a bit and looked away. “Like I said, it doesn’t hurt to try. It could feel really, _really_ good, Georgie.” He placed a gentle hand on my knee. I felt like screaming.

“It really won’t do any harm,” he whispered, inching closer to me. “Just let me kiss you, George. We don’t have to do anything more than that if you don’t want to.”

“Why don’t you ask John?” I asked testily, scared and confused. “I bet he would be better at this sort of thing.”

“’Cause I don’t want to ask him.” He stroked my cheek and I shivered. “I want to do this with you, George.” Gracefully, he pulled my guitar out of my hands and placed it beside the bed, leaving me utterly defenseless.

My heart fluttered as I stared into his eyes. They were flitting between my eyes and my lips, and God, he was so close to me, I could just lean forward and—

“You really want me?”

“Really. You.” He smiled at me, and now I know why all the girls follow him around more than anyone else.

“This isn’t a trick, is it? You’re not gonna get me to agree to this, then go tell all the lads I’m a poof?” Paul just rolled his eyes and pinched my ear hard, making me yelp in surprise and pain. “You won’t tell anyone.”

“Not a soul. Promise.”

I exhaled shakily, trying not to glance at those perfect lips. “Okay. If you don’t tell anyone.”

Paul grinned and closed the gap between us, our mouths meeting softly for the first time. _Just a kiss,_ I told myself, even though every fiber of me was screaming that I was kissing Paul! He was soft and gentle with me, and slowly, I felt some of the tension in my body flow out and I relaxed into the kiss. I leaned in closer to my partner, forgetting for a second that this was my best friend, that it was just a very nice kiss. But suddenly, his lips parted and an inquisitive tongue sought its entrance to my mouth.

Every instinct said to pull back and run away, but I kept kissing him and slowly opened my mouth to let him inside. It was exciting to have this male tongue in my mouth, kissing me the way girls didn’t seem to know how to. I liked it. I let my hands curl around the back of his neck, fingering the wisps of hair there absent-mindedly.

All of a sudden, Paul pulled back, smiling at me kindly. “I like the way you kiss, Georgie,” he murmured, stroking my hair. “It’s… sweet. You kiss very sweetly.” He glanced at me teasingly. “You have done this before, right?”

I blushed furiously. “Course I’ve done it before, you know damn well that—!” I was cut off when my giggling friend kissed me once again, but I didn't fight it. I simply closed my eyes and kissed back. I didn’t have to tell him that he was better than any girl I’ve ever kissed. 

Paul pulled me closer to him, until I was almost on his lap. I didn’t mind that I felt a bit like one of his girlfriends; Paul’s tongue was doing wonders against mine and I had to fight hard to bite back a moan. I wrapped my arms around him, running my hands over his shoulder blades and trying to distract myself from the arousal beginning to pool in my lower stomach and my balls tightening. 

A hot hand slipped itself under my t-shirt, grasping my waist hard, and Paul was kissing me faster, more passionately. I had no choice but to return with as much passion, but I jumped back when I felt fingers playing with my nipple. “Paul?!”

“Shh, just let me play with them a bit, okay?” He smiled reassuringly at me, the fingers circling the nub lightly. “No big deal.” He leaned in to kiss me again, and I relented. It really wasn’t a big deal, it’s not like I’m a girl. And besides, this felt, well, good. He had both hands inside my shirt now, rubbing and tweaking my nipples like I never thought they could be, and he just kept kissing me so very well…

He drew back his lips, and I had to consciously stop myself from whimpering. “Put your arms up, Georgie, I wanna take your shirt off.” With twinge of hesitation, I did as he asked, and he stripped me of my t-shirt, leaving me in only my jeans while I straddled his legs. My face colored rapidly as he stroked my nearly hairless chest. “I like this.”

“I don’t,” I muttered, turning my face away.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to do this if your chest was covered in hair, George.” Suddenly, my right nipple was engulfed in a hot, wet suction and I moaned involuntarily. My head shot back to see my friend sucking on my nipple, still tweaking the other one in his hand. I moaned again and ran my fingers through his hair. I was completely erect now, but I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how far Paul wanted to go with this experiment; I didn’t know how far _I_ wanted to go. While one part of me was dying for Paul to shove his hand down my pants, another was still screaming about how wrong this all was. But I didn’t want to stop this now. Paul was here, he was with me, he had his lips around my fucking nipple and he wanted me. I didn’t understand what was going on inside me, but at least it was Paul. I had always thought he was attractive, even though I wasn’t attracted to him… Was I?

My friend released my nip, and I released his head in turn, immediately embarrassed at how excited I had been. Paul ignored my discomfort, gently cupping my arousal in his hand. “You mind if I touch you here?” He rubbed my erect member through my trousers and I nearly came.

“I don’t know, Paul…” I bit my lip nervously.

“Come on,” he wheedled. “What’s the worst that could happen from me wanking you off? I know you’ve never even had a girl do this for you before… And I know what I’m doing.”

I raised my eyes to meet his, looking for some sort of guarantee that everything would be okay, that we’d come out of this the same as we were before, maybe better than before. He just leaned forward and kissed me softly. When he pulled back, I simply nodded. “Okay.”

Paul pulled me off of his lap and laid me flat on the bed, deftly undoing my jeans and pulling both them and my shorts off in one fell swoop, leaving me completely naked before him while he was still fully clothed. I wanted more than anything to get under the covers and hide; I knew Paul was practically perfect underneath his clothes, but I was just a mess of pasty skin and bones, my teenage prick jutting out obtrusively though I’d barely been touched. _Please_, I begged myself silently, _please don’t let me make a fool of myself in front of Paul._

But Paul didn’t laugh at my boniness, my needy cock; he just grinned at me. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy, Georgie,” he whispered. “You don’t even know it, but you are. You’re only going to get sexier.” And with that, he slowly stroked my arousal, making me moan loudly with delight. I tried my best to keep my hips from jerking up into his touch, but I couldn’t win every battle.

“Like that, George?” Paul asked teasingly, pumping my cock at his own leisure. I could only nod excitedly, not trusting myself to speak. With his free hand, he reached down to fondle my balls, cradling them in his palm. I whimpered quietly, thrusting my hips up to meet his rhythm, but I needed more. He ran his right hand over my body, playing with my bollocks, tracing my inner thighs and globes of my ass while I simply soaked in the experience.

“Georgie?” Paul’s voice broke me from my reverie and I raised my head to meet his eyes. “I want to do one last thing… Will you let me put my fingers inside?”

Confusion was getting easier to deal with now, but I still had to find the nerve to ask, “Inside where?”

In response, he simply ran a finger around my asshole. I jumped like a shot into a sitting position like someone had ran an electrical current through me. “What the bleeding hell for?!”

Paul’s expression quickly turned sulky, but he stroked my thigh, trying to calm me. “I just want to see what it’s like, George. I want to know.”

“I don’t!” I complained, though my prick said something wildly different.

“Georgie, come on,” Paul cajoled, running a finger up my arousal, making me shiver. “Do you know what John told me? He told me that an older lad at the college told him that there was a spot… inside… that if you touched it, it felt like five orgasms at once. Don’t you want to know what that feels like? You might never feel it again.”

“It’ll hurt,” I whispered, not giving voice to my real concerns. I wasn’t sure if I could even tell myself what they were, but I was so afraid to give myself like this to Paul. If I gave him this, how much else would I be giving him? I was happy now—I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.

“It won’t hurt, mate,” Paul said soothingly. “I’ll only put in one finger, more if you want them.”

_John hasn’t done this before. If I do something before John bloody Lennon, maybe I’ll finally be enough for Paul._ I clenched my fists in the bed sheets before spreading my legs slightly for my friend. “Just one…”

Paul beamed at me and propped my legs up so he could position himself between them. I sat back on my forearms, trying to see what he would do. He sucked his index finger for a few moments before drawing it around my hole again. “Relax, George, it’ll work better if you relax. Yeah, that’s it.” The finger slowly made its way inside of me as I inhaled and exhaled heavily, trying to relax myself for Paul’s quest. 

The finger wiggled inside me. “How’s it feel?”

I wiggled in response. “Just… weird. Doesn’t hurt very much, but it’s… I don’t know, just weird.”

Paul stroked my thigh again. “Just relax, Georgie.” His finger moved inside me again, inciting noises of discomfort and nervousness from me. “Did I find it? Was that it?”

“Well, it didn’t bloody feel like five orgasms, so no, I’d say you didn’t.”

Paul frowned, and twisted his finger again. “How about—”

“Oh, FUCK! Paul!” I fell back on the bed, jerking my hips up with extreme pleasure. I didn’t have to look at him to tell that he was grinning with delight. 

“George, you are wonderful, you know that? So bloody hot.” He hit the spot again, making me moan and pant in desire. As he massaged it again, I felt him work another finger into my hole, but I didn’t mind; I wanted as much of Paul as he was going to give me. I rocked back onto the fingers, trying to get more and more. My friend watched me thrust back onto him, pre-cum drizzling down my prick, my lips on the verge of bleeding from biting them in pleasure. I was at the absolute center of his attention and I loved it. I could see Paul’s erection from inside his own trousers and I felt a surge of pride. Could it be that Paul planned this, all of this… because he actually likes me? That maybe he really likes me? I smiled broadly, thinking to myself, _If Paul likes me… I don’t think I’d mind. I think I’d like him back._ “Ohh!” I moaned loudly as Paul hit the spot inside me dead-on.

“Shit, George,” Paul muttered, moving his eyes over my body and I saw him reach for his belt. I struggled to sit back up onto my forearms as I watched him unfasten his belt and jeans, pulling out his large and circumcised cock, jerking himself awkwardly with his right hand.

I moaned again, just to see this sight and know that I was the one to cause it. Without even thinking, I grabbed my own prick and started pumping myself wildly, watching Paul as he did the same. It didn’t take long— Paul tapped the spot inside of me again while I wanked and I spurted all over myself, come flying all over my stomach, hand and inner thighs, crying out as I did so.

Paul giggled breathlessly as he continued to jerk off, giving me one last twist of his fingers before extracting them. “I would never have believed that such a skinny kid could make so much come,” he teased, but I brushed it off. Shaky as I was after my orgasm, I managed to pull myself up and next to Paul. To his apparent shock, I pulled him into a fervent kiss, our tongues meeting immediately. Without any hesitation, I reached down between us and took Paul’s dick into my own hand, pumping him hard and fast. He moaned into my mouth, spurring me to jerk him faster. 

“George, George!” he groaned, falling closer into me. His brown eyes bore into mine and I knew that I wanted Paul McCartney all for myself. I kissed him again, telling him in my head, _Come for me, Paul, come for George. No one else, just me, just me, I love you, come for me!_ As if he had truly heard me, Paul moaned and bucked in my arms and the next thing I knew, my hand was covered in the unfamiliar substance of Paul’s fluid. I kissed him lightly one last time before pulling back, reaching unsteadily for the tissues I leave under the bed for this very reason. 

“Wow. George,” Paul whispered, panting very hard. “I didn’t really think _that_ would happen!”

I blushed slightly, wiping off my hand, then beginning on my stomach. “I didn’t really think it would either, to be honest.”

My friend laughed and kissed me on the forehead. “You’re going to be dynamo in the sack, love, you know that?” He scooted himself up to the head of the bed, hanging off to reach into his knapsack. He pulled out a cigarette carton, but looked at me first. “Is it okay if I…?”

“Uhm. I guess so… My mother loves you anyway, so you could pretty much get away with murder here.”

He grinned at me and patted the spot next to him as he lit a fag. “Do you want one too, Georgie? Your first sexual experience doesn’t happen every day.”

“I’ve never smoked one before,” I confessed as I took the offered cigarette. “Do I look cool?”

“Here, let me light it first.” He lit the stick that lay between my lips and within seconds, I started coughing as the smoke invaded my lungs. With a sympathetic look, he patted me on the back. “That usually happens. Just lay back and smoke it easily.” I did what he said.

We lay together, watching the plumes of smoke raise from our fags and cloud above my bed. “Thanks for all this, Georgie,” Paul finally said, ruffling my hair. “I never dreamed that you’d be such a good sport!”

Pleasure filled my chest at this praise, and I smiled at my older friend. Trying very hard to act nonchalant, I asked, “So, there a reason for all of this, Paul? I mean, you don’t just wake up one morning and say, ‘I wanna try shagging a bloke,’ right?”

Paul blushed, ducking his head. “Well… Can you keep a secret?”

_Calm, calm, calm._ “You know I can. What’s up?”

He gave me a shy smile. “I… really think I like John.”

Oh.

“I mean, it’s stupid, I know, I don’t even know if he likes men! And even if he did, why would he like me, right? But I really think he does like men and if he gave me a chance, I’d at least be good at sex so he’d want to stay with me. Oh God, that sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

I felt my heart breaking as I watched the boy who had just taken hold of it babble about his own love, a self-deprecating smile break onto his beautiful face. There was nothing more I could do for Paul. “Mate, John would be mad not to want you.”

Paul grinned from ear to ear and pulled me into a close hug. “George, you are the best!” he murmured, kissing my cheek softly. “Better than a brother, you.” I just tried not to let him see the utter despair in my heart.

“Georgie, I really really _really_ hate to run like this,” Paul said, climbing over me to the floor and throwing his cigarette butt out my open window, “but I promised John we’d meet at five and I have to get going. We’re just going to maybe write some songs, but you know, I need all the time with him I can get.”

“No, no, I understand.” I smiled at him kindly as he tucked himself back into his jeans. “I want you to go have fun.”

Paul leaned forward to ruffle my hair again, successfully making me feel like a young child. “You simply are the best, George. Let’s practice together again sometime later this week, yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Later this week.” With one last pat on the head, Paul was out the door, while I sat naked on my bed, a half-finished cigarette in one hand and a fistful of used tissue paper in the other.

THE END


End file.
